CAROLINE AND THE MORNING AFTER


Author's note: This takes place the morning after 'Caroline and the Perfect Record'. They never did a morning-after story, so that's what I'm doing.


The neon-pink light coming from the 'Able Storage' sign burst obnoxiously throughout the room, turning the room a shade of bright pink. Caroline slowly opened her eyes, then shut them quickly again as a sharp pain cut between them like a knife. Too much alcohol, she reminded herself, not a good idea. She then took in several things quickly. First, she was wearing the same clothes she had on the night before. Second, she was in Richard's bed. Third, Richard was nowhere to be found.

She sat up quickly, putting a hand to her throbbing head, reminding herself not to make any other sudden movements. She looked slowly around the apartment, her eyes finally stopping to rest on the figure sprawled out on the floor. Richard. A smile plucked up the corners of her mouth as she studied him.

He was lying on his cold, hardwood floor, still in his robe and plaid boxer pants, covered partially by his thin painting tarp. Her smile broadened. I can't believe he did that for me, she thought in awe. She leaned over the edge of the bed, studying his face closer. In sleep, his face lost the lines of grimness that he wore as a mask during the day, and he looked much younger, almost reborn. Caroline, for a fleeting moment, realized, My God, he's gorgeous.

Seeing him lying there, without his glasses, without those worry lines that normally creased his forehead and face, stirred up feelings in Caroline she didn't know she had. She drew in a breath, unsure of why she'd be feeling this way toward her assistant. Still, as unsure as she was of her feelings for him, she couldn't resist reaching out and touching the back of her index finger to his cheek, tracing his cheekbone before moving down to trace his jawline.

This was the moment that Richard's eyes fluttered open. Caroline caught her breath, drawing her finger away from his face quickly as he sat abruptly. The worry lines returned. He reached over next to him on the floor, bringing his glasses up to his face and putting them on. He blinked a few times as he looked up at Caroline. It really wasn't a dream, he realized, she really came to me lastnight. She came... to me. He found himself smiling genuinely at her for the first time ever since he'd known her. "Hi," he said softly.

She returned his smile, surprised by his facial expression as much as he was. "Hi," she replied.

He stood up slowly, folding up his tarp. He now found it hard to look her in the eye. Her behavior last night had electrified him. The way she'd hugged him. The way she spoke candidly to him. Even the way she looked at him. Granted, it may have been the alcohol in her system, but Richard could've sworn there was something different in her eyes last night. After his tarp had been folded neatly and placed near his easel, he turned to her. "How was all the alcohol?" he ventured next.

She cracked a smile. "I can't remember," she said. She then drew in a breath, trying to figure out how to go about asking her next question. "Um, I know this is going to sound kind of weird, but... what happened last night?"

Richard froze. "Um..." he began, "You knocked on my door, and then went over to the bed, and... kinda fell asleep." That was a good enough explanation, right? She didn't need to know everything that had happened. She hadn't been herself, after all.

Caroline cocked her head, narrowing her eyes slightly as she studied him. "Is that it?" she asked.

He turned his gaze away from hers, knowing she would be able to see the truth in his eyes. "Yes," he replied.

She stood up slowly. "Are you sure you're being honest with me?" She stepped toward him, wanting to physically turn his head to look at her so she could read his eyes like she'd always been able to.

He stepped away, moving toward the bed as he made it up, straightening the sheet and green blanket. "Yes," he repeated. He looked up at her, eager to change the subject. "Uh, would you like some coffee or something? Maybe some aspirin?"

She nodded. "Sure, okay, that sounds good."

"Okay." He reached into his closet and pulled out his black jeans and charcoal gray sweater. He looked at her sheepishly. "Uh, would you mind turning around for a minute?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes, of course." She spun around quickly, facing the wall. She could hear the metal clanking sound of his belt as he pulled on his jeans and fastened them tightly to his waist. She then heard him pull his sweater over his head quickly and tug it down where it was supposed to be. Finally she heard him clear his throat, and she took that as her cue to turn back around.

He was now standing by the door, opening his wallet, checking to make sure he could afford coffee and aspirin. He folded the wallet again and slid it into his back pocket as he grabbed his coat and opened the door. "I'll just be right back," he told her, and left quickly.

Caroline threw her head in a huff, then squinted her eyes shut again as the pain increased. What was that about sudden movements? She went back over and sat on the bed. "I know there's more to last night than Richard said," she said aloud, knowing only Richard's six-legged friends could hear her rambling. She leaned forward and rested her elbow on her thigh, placing her chin in her palm. If only she could remember what had happened. She closed her eyes and fought hard.

She left Bob's bar... she vaguely remembered hailing a cab... but why had she instructed the driver to take her to Richard's place? Why didn't she just go home? Another memory hit her. Clutching Richard's door jamb as she stumbled inside, asking what was wrong with her. She allowed a half smile as she remembered his response: "Other than the fact that you qualify as an open container?"

She then remembered telling him she'd never been without a guy, and him spouting off different dates in her past. It was true. Every date he had named off, she had been with a guy. June 1st, 1982--sophomore year, Scott Aldrich. January 5th, 1971--3rd grade, Jesse Dawson--she'd won him from Connie Reynolds in a game of jacks. December 28th, 1990 was the last date he'd named off. Benjamin Berkowitz. Post doctorate at Columbia. She never had been without a guy since 3rd grade. She was afraid of being alone, which is what she remembered telling Richard last night, also.

She bit her lip. What else had she done? What did he do? Then it hit her--the last few words they spoke to each other before she fell asleep.

"You're a wonderful person," he'd said softly.

She had taken a deep breath, looking up at him. "Well, then why won't anybody stay with me?"

His last statement had been so gentle, so tender. "Maybe you just haven't found the right guy yet."

Caroline snapped out of her reverie, her eyes wide with a realization. Could he have been talking about himself? It was a possibility. Many memories, along with words from the night before, began to endlessly flood Caroline's brain.

Why won't anybody stay with me? . . . The first flashback was when she threw her back out playing racquetball with Del. He had left her to go to work. Who had stayed with her? Richard. Next was a memory of when a park in her hometown of Peshtigo, Wisconsin was dedicated to her. Who had gone with her? Richard. During that time, when she'd stormed outside, upset with her brother, who came out and cheered her up and stayed by her? Richard. When she'd found that watch in the antique partner desk--who had gone with her to track down the owners of the watch? Again, Richard. Richard had stuck close by her almost ever since she'd known him. He'd taken care of her in ways that Annie and Del and everyone else in her life didn't.

His words then echoed through her mind. Maybe you just haven't found the right guy yet . . . The look on his face when she told him that Del had proposed to her. Shock, maybe? Then, when he had run after her in the rain to give her the umbrella, and she'd asked him if that was all. She remembered how long he had paused, just looking into her eyes, as if having an inner struggle, then bowing out and allowing her to accept Del's proposal. Then, what had happened after that night in Remo's. The night before the day before the wedding. The way he'd kissed her, with so much love. Then asking if she'd gotten his letter. The look on his face when she responded, "What letter?" --mortification? Disappointment? Pain? Quite possibly all three.

That was the night he had fled to Paris without saying goodbye to her. Why? Maybe you just haven't found the right guy yet . . . That was it. He didn't think she should've been marrying Del. Was that what was in the letter? Maybe he had feelings for her, and wrote it in that letter that she never read. What had happened to that? Maybe out of embarrassment he went to her apartment and recovered it before she could see it.

She then remembered when she had met up with him again, how surprised he was that she was dating Joe. The look on his face when he saw Joe catch up to Caroline on the street and ask her to breakfast. He had shot daggers through his eyes at young Dr. Joe. Caroline smirked as she realized that Richard never really had said anything nice to him. Joe hadn't been the right guy for her, anyway.

Her smirk turned into a smile. Could Richard possibly be the right guy for me? She bit her lip as she smiled, getting up off the bed. She was determined to find out. She knew there had to have been a reason for wanting to reach out and touch his face, or the overwhelming feeling of love she'd felt in her heart when she realized he had sacrificed his own warmth to let her sleep in his bed. He cared for her. He honestly cared for her, and she felt exactly the same towards him.

She felt excitement growing in her stomach as she wished he'd return soon. She needed to find out if he really felt that way toward her, or if her mind was just deceiving her. She pushed that thought away as she shook her head. No, he had to feel the same way about her. Otherwise, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken care of her for so long like he did. He wouldn't have always stuck by her side. He had to care about her.

His last statement from last night echoed through her head one last time as the door opened and he entered. Maybe you just haven't found the right guy yet . . .

Their eyes met, and for a moment that seemed suspended in time, they just stood there and looked at each other, looking into each other's eyes as if seeing each other for the very first time. For Caroline, it was like seeing him for the first time. Almost as if the past had been wiped away. She had made a startling revelation about herself and Richard, a revelation that now left the fate of their relationship in her hands. They each drew in a breath as they tore their eyes away from each other.

Caroline looked at the two paper bags in his hand, then her gaze drifted to the drink holder in his other hand, in which two cardboard cups of coffee were standing, almost tipping over. She quickly darted over to him. "Here, let me help," she offered, taking the drink holder out of his hand as he shut the door.

"Thanks," he said quietly, still avoiding her gaze. Why was she looking at him like that?

She looked up at him again as she set the two coffees on his small, round table. "What's in the bags?" she asked.

He set the larger bag down on the table, handing the small bag to her. "I bought you some aspirin," he said.

She smiled. "Thanks, Richard," she said, patting his shoulder gently.

She felt his muscles tense up under her fingertips. "You're welcome," he returned quietly.

She drew her hand away from his shoulder, reaching into the bag and pulling out the small, white bottle. She pushed down on the lid and turned it. Nothing happened. She tried again, and still couldn't open it. Richard, who noticed this, snatched the bottle out of her hands and opened it himself. "Must I do everything for you?" he asked in mock exasperation, smiling his normal lopsided grin at her.

She saw through his sarcasm, now realizing just how much she depended on him. "Yes," she replied.

He chuckled at this. "I could've sworn the only thing in my job description was coloring in the comic strip. I'm not sure I remember the part about opening bottles of aspirin."

She smirked, her normal response to his sarcastic comments, and he smirked back. Two white pills then tumbled into his hand out of the bottle, and he handed them to her. She took them, and her hand lingered over his a second or two longer than necessary. They looked up at each other again, their gaze locking.

After a moment, Richard tore his eyes away from her once again, and Caroline opened her coffee, popping the pills into her mouth and taking a gulp. She swallowed the pills effortlessly, then gestured to the larger bag. "What's in that one, then?" she asked.

He smiled at her and reached inside the bag, pulling out some bagels and cream cheese. "Well," he began nervously, "I just thought that you might be hungry, so I took the liberty of getting you some bagels fresh from the bakery."

She smiled up at Richard affectionately, which he didn't notice. "Wow, Richard," she said. "That's so sweet. I don't know how I could ever thank you."

He chuckled at her tone of voice. "They're just bagels, Caroline, it's not like I'm giving you one of my kidneys."

She smiled, inching a little closer to him. "Not just the bagels, Richard."

He looked up at her. "What for, then?"

She continued to smile up at him, and she touched his cheek. "For everything." She paused. "When you left, I was thinking about some things, and I realized how much you've cared for me since I've known you. I mean, you took care of me in ways that Annie or Del or anybody else never bothered to. And," she added, her smile broadening, "When I realized you had sacrificed your own warmth to let me sleep in your bed, I also realized that I was wrong last night."

He gave her a look. "Wrong about what?"

She rubbed his cheek with the back of her index finger, just as she had done when she'd first woken up. "Wrong about nobody staying with me."

His eyes widened. "Y-you... you remember saying that?" he asked nervously. "What else do you remember?"

"Everything," she said strongly, emphasizing her statement with a look into his eyes. "Everything you've ever done for me that I've taken for granted. You were the one that was always there, Richard," she said softly. "And you have no idea how much that means to me." She stepped toward him then, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug.
Richard's breathing stopped then hitched, then began again. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but didn't want to pull away to ask. He'd felt fear like this last night when she'd hugged him, and again didn't know what to do. So he hugged her. It seemed like the right thing to do. But then, Caroline pulled back, and again Richard felt fear. He just knew he had spoiled everything.

But Caroline just smiled, and placed her hands on Richard's face, drawing him close to her. She kissed his mouth slowly and tenderly. She felt the shock in his body as he pulled away. "Caroline," he whispered, his voice filled with shock. "Wh-what was that for?"

She smiled at him as she kept her hands on his face, allowing one to casually move up and glide through his thick, sandy-blond hair. "For loving me," she replied simply. Her grin then turned playful as she paused. "You know, you were wrong last night, too."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "About what?"

She kissed him quickly again before looking into his eyes. "I have found the right guy." She smiled lovingly at him. "It's you, Richard. It's always been you. I love you."

His stomach did cartwheels as her last statement sunk into his brain. Did she just say what I think she just said? He grinned brightly at her, more brightly than he ever had in his life, placing his hands gingerly on her hips. "Caroline, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words. I love you too."

He then leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, letting his feelings seep out into their slow, gentle kiss--one that made up for all the time they had lost. Caroline's headache disappeared in a rush, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he began giving her small pecks on the lips. She smiled in between his short kisses, and then he kissed her once on her neck, her shoulder, her upper arm, her forearm, then took her hands and kissed her knuckles.

She giggled a little, and he smiled brightly at her, before pulling her to him once more. This time, he placed feather-light kisses on her forehead, her nose, both of her cheeks, and her chin before once again reaching her mouth. She kissed him back, and when they pulled away they held one another tightly, afraid that if they let go it would be a dream, and that they would be dumped back into waking reality.

Caroline leaned her forehead against his, rubbing the tips of their noses together before kissing him quickly again. "What do you say we have breakfast now?"

He smiled. "I say that's a good idea."

They then both pulled out chairs and sat down at the table, talking about letters and longing glances in the past as they ate, each finally content.


THE END